1 Week till the Wine Country Century - 75.8 Miles

Rode on Saturday with Vince, Milt, and Mickey.
Talked a lot about next weekend's Wine Country Century.





Still a little sore from my 20+ mile mountain bike ride home from work on Thursday (including a stop for a quick 5 mile run in Briones), and then return on Friday with the road bike.


Took it rather easy at the onset.
Stayed with Milt and Mickey for a while, and then left them just before Bear Creek Rd.
Waited at San Pablo Dam Rd. where we finally left them for good.

They finished a loop back through Orinda and Lafayette, while Vince and I explored a new route to the top of the Oakland Ridge. 100 yards or so on a singular stretch of dirt road concerned me, but not as much as the abrupt climbs in the next couple of miles. Very steep.

Wind breaker on. Wind breaker off. ...all along the Oakland ridge. We would descend long enough to need it, put it on, and then sweat up the next climb. Once we came out of the hills, we were able to stash them for good.

Water stop at Sibley Volcanic Regional Preserve.

We followed basically the same route as my century last week, but skipped the mountain to get home on time.

Led a spectacular tail wind from San Ramone to home. No complaints.
Total of 75.8 miles.

100 Solo

1 large Whole Grain Bagel - 1 oz Neufchatel Cheese.
1 cup Grape Nuts cereal
1 chopped banana - in noted cereal.
1.5 cups Starbucks Italian Roast Coffee.

4 homemade energy bars - designed, created, and wrapped by my wife.
2 bottles of Cytomax mixed a little too strong.

...Fuel for Saturday's 100.5 mile road ride.


The Course was not new. From Martinez, a slow climb to Pig Farm Hill and then the rolling hills of Bear Creek Rd, up into Tilden and abruptly up South Park Rd.

(I got a "good luck!" from a passing motorist as I began my climb up South Park. If I wasn't already intimate with this climb, I would have certainly begun having second thoughts about the relationship.)

Photo from my phone looking West over Oakland and SF Bay.
Taken from Skyline Blvd.

From SP the route goes south through the Berkeley and Oakland hills to Castro Valley, and then back to the Diablo valley through Crow Canyon.

I was hoping for an unseasonal "off shore flow" meaning that the warm air, assisted by a stiff breeze, would be coming from the east out of the central valley. Alas, this was not the case, though warm indeed. Head wind all the way to the foot of Mt. Diablo, and I failed at meteorology again. I did pick up a draft along this stretch though. A older gentleman caught me at a stop light, and I agreed to slow my pace, so that we could trade off drafting for a few miles, saving us both considerable energy.

I had determined early on, that riding Diablo was not optional - I would at least see the Ranger Station. I relegated the summit to an option, but after consuming the last of the energy bars, turned from the Ranger Station and ascended the last 4.5 miles.

Actually I went about 4.25 miles. The final 1/8 of a mile is an 18% death march. I had been seriously contemplating stopping short even as I approached the mountain - nearly 70 miles into the ride. Within a 1/4 mile of the top, an unbelievably obnoxious swarm of tiny flies made the decision for me. They literally covered my arms as fast as I could sweep them off. Ears. Nose. Forget it.
I was spitting bugs for a mile.
(No not like that - I can only spit about 10', and that's with a tail wind.)

I descended fast.
Not my fastest descent, as I did a lot of stretching and sitting up on the straights, but I felt very sharp on the corners, and managed to pass quite a few cyclists.

Got passed myself for the first time on the descent. He's lucky I had to keep stretching. Passed me on the flats at the bottom, where I reigned in with a long back stretch till he slid by, and then I basked in his draft till we hit some rollers. I don't think he was 85 miles into his ride.

OK, so in conclusion, full disclosure requires that I report...
I was passed by a girl on the way up. There were 3 other guys that passed me too, but the girl...

There are so many reasons why... And believe me, I rehearsed them all within the milliseconds after noticing the obvious. It would be pointless to list them here, since you would file them all under the label "excuse" any way - with the exception of the one reason, that I have settled upon. Though fatigued by many miles of riding; a far inferior bike; with no professional training (like she must have had); and weighing dozens of pounds more; I, was only passed for this one reason:



[Consider inserting photo here]


I don't shave my legs.
I'll never let this happen again.

Writing Not Riding

I am sitting at my laptop with my phone, credit card and driver's license in a plastic ziplock bag. I've been waiting an hour for the rain to let up so that I can get on my bike and ride to the regularly scheduled Tuesday Hike / Run event. My plan was to leave 2 hours early and ride the mountain bike as a training ride. The rain has gone from steady, to torrential with thunder and lightning. The thunder and lightning is actually pretty cool, since we almost never get it here in the SF Bay Area. However, I just got a call from Vince pulling out of the run, leaving me with a decision. So here I sit all dressed up with nowhere to go. I went out and took these pictures so I would have something to put in this post.



4 hours later...

Never mind, we went.
When the thunderstorm blew over, we decided to dodge rain drops and give it a go.

I changed plans on Pastor - who was going to come and pace us on his bike - a few times via text message...

Me (3:16 PM):
Don't necessarily have to bring your bike.
Mine will be there and you could ride it.
I plan to ride to the hike - rain or shine.

Me (3:17 PM):
Vince is looking at closer to 5, so don't wait too long or you may need your bike to catch up.

Me (4:23 PM):
Vince bailed out. (legit Swintonism - I just realized the play on words)
It is POURING!!!! And lightning.
May just wish I was riding instead.

Me (4:45 PM):
Nevermind we're going.
Yeah we're fickle.

Snow, Brent (4:47 PM):
ok ill see u there

So yeah he was there a little late and had to catch up - Not that it was all that hard for him. We ran the 7 miles and he rode it. We still got wet, 'cause the rain wasn't really gone.

Bec opted out of today's adventure. No complaints here, because I'm now dry, showered, and fed: Bean burritos, and chicken stuff (not sure what it's called - but sure is great to have waiting for you after riding and running in the rain).

The Rim Trail

As noted in the Biathalon post - the Lafayette Rim trail is a 5 mile hilly loop around the Lafayette Reservoir. There is a paved trail down at water level that makes the circuit in just under 3 miles, but the more adventurous brave the hills.

The map above is a track recorded by a cool piece of software I downloaded to my Treo. It uses the built in GPS receiver on the phone to track my coordinates and altitude during any period of time that I tell it to run.

The route is known for it's abrupt climb at around 2 miles. Locals refer to it as "Cardiac Hill," climbing over 250' in under a quarter mile. Basically, it needs steps cut into it. One of these days I'll post because I have run the route twice consecutively.

This picture was taken just before our "Biathlon Run"
I'm not cold - I'm just standing like that because...I don't know why.
Quit being so critical already.

We enjoy this spot because it offers a pace for everyone.
And...it has a HUGE playground for Ella at the end.

The Biathlon

The biathlon was an outgrowth of my "ride to the run" that I recently did on a Tuesday afternoon.
I rode through Briones from our house to meet up with the group that our family hikes and runs with. Vince contrived the real biathlon after our run that evening. We scheduled it for the following Saturday.

30 miles on the mountain bikes - from Martinez to Lafayette and back again through Briones Regional Park - split evenly in half with a 5 mile run around the Lafayette Reservoir Rim Trail.
The entire route was hills. I estimate 3,500 - 4,000 feet of climbing on the mountain bikes, and 1,500 running.

Most of the trails we rode were familiar, but the final descent of the first leg into Lafayette was a new one, and gave rise to a lingering foreboding. For the entire run around the reservoir, I couldn't get off my mind the fact that the descent into Lafayette had been really fast.

The foreboding was entirely warranted. The furthest extent of the Rim Trail circuit, our running "leg" of the journey, put us on the opposite ridge of the valley from our recent descent, with excellent views of the hills we would soon pedal back up. Even across the valley they appeared rather steep.

They were extremely steep. There were times during our return when even in our lowest gear, our cadence (pedal stroke) was well under 60 RPM. It's hard to just stay balanced going that slow - no less being at nearly 100%. Nonetheless, we returned through Briones in less time than it took us in the opposite direction.


Bec and Ella walked 4 miles around the lake while we ran, and met us back at the car before we pedaled away. The Pilot served as bike storage while at the reservoir.



And, Bec was the real Hero of the day, bringing home made quiche, muffins, and fresh fruit to the reservoir for a rest stop before and after the run.
Oh yeah, and we made a new friend on the trail...

He was kind enough to let us squeeze through the 18" that he had left between his rump and a tree. Going around the tree wasn't an option as that side was protected by a much more formidable beast - Poison Oak!!!

Daylight Saving - We Got Our Hour Back

Winter is not over, but we can at least pretend. Daylight saving has crept earlier and earlier it seems, and this year officially fell on March 8. I'm personally not a fan of the event. Why bother? - Ya know?

No matter - it happens, and we oblige.

March 9 Monday found us on an afternoon ride in celebration. Vince and I sped around the San Pablo reservoir - me sporting a new red walled gift tire, that Vince had conceded to reduce the risk of a repeat of our last double flat misadventure. Front tire is now all black with a yellow "Continental" logo on the side, and the rear is black with a bright red sidewall. It doesn't even come close to looking like it was meant to be that way. It looks like what it is. I don't care. I'm telling people that it's more aerodynamic that way.



Since that afternoon I have managed a few other solo rides, including a couple of trips to the top of our local 3800 foot hill - slipping beneath the radar of my new GPS enabled Treo Pro cell phone, and exchanging my bluetooth head leash for a helmet.

By the way, did I mention that I bought a new phone? The other was in active mutiny and the rebellion had to be suppressed before it spread to my other digital vessels.

While on the topic; I love my gadgets. I hate them too. I suspect I'm normal. I've owned a Palm Treo since when the 650 was new. That's at least 3 years, maybe 4. I've had more headsets than I can remember. GPS, laptop, external drives, stereo bluetooth headset, voice recorder, and a multi function pen that produces an ink pen with one twist and a stylus for the touch screen with the other and laser pointer at the top next to a blue LED flashlight. Carried the fancy pen for 1 week.

These things do not bring me joy. Much to the contrary. Most of them are fortunate to have avoided becoming projectiles during failed paring and synchronizing events. Among the worst, is when my computer and phone don't both convert to daylight saving correctly. All of my meetings become exactly 1 hour off. The computer says one thing, and the phone, another. I typically realize this halfway through a bad Monday, resulting from waking up to my phone alarm - exactly one hour late. I do not need these conveniences.

And then I think how simple a concept is the bicycle. But wait - Electric Dura Ace? Oh no.

Here we are full circle. Back to daylight saving. The more I ponder this, the more I think this may be a good issue for a sort of Civil Disobedience along the lines of a Critical Mass. If we all just said forget it, then we would all be right, and the only ones off would be the government. And that wouldn't be new.

Flats

A couple years ago on a very warm July 4th we were on the trail at Mitchel Canyon Regional Park in Clayton, CA. We were making good time up the Mitchel Canyon trail, and had been outbound for nearly 30 minutes when that unmistakable rough ride feeling telegraphed through the spokes and into the frame. I had a flat - back tire - and of course had no spare. The green slime, theoretically intended for defense of the precious pressurized gasses, was seeping out between the rim and tire. A change of plans was in the making.

Fortunate for me I wasn't riding - my daughter was. Unfortunate for me, I was pushing.

We were out for a family hike on one of the hottest days of the year, and I was pushing our picnic lunch, approx. 10,000 gallons of water, and our 35lb 5 year old in the jogging stroller.


Down by 1 out of 3 wheels, I resolved to the likelyhood of replacing a tire along with a tube, and sat down with 2 great hiking companions along a very dry creek bed and consumed some of the 10,000 gallons with lunch.


Patches and slime have become a part of our life. The reason Slime was oozing out of the tire, was that by the summer of '07, all of the 3 tubes had been replaced at least once with Slime tubes since they left Toys R Us 4 years earlier. We estimate that we have over 3,000 miles on that stroller. Yes, 3,000 - and that's conservative.

It's not just the stroller though. All of our bikes have had their turn.

Bec has walked her crippled bike over a mile, to finish our "quick ride up to the store" while Ella and I returned home for the rescue vehicle.

There was the time I took my mountain bike, with the trailer bike and Ella in tow, off the paved trail while my wife looked on from the dull safety of the asphalt. We regained the pavement with a coating of Puncture Vine seed pods covering our tires. Look at the link and you will see what I mean by "coating." We spent easily 10 minutes puncturing our fingers trying to remove the beasts from the treads. The trailer bike's only wheel was deflated instantly. But, here is where I give Slime a reprieve. I'm still riding my bike on the same front tube and tire. At least a couple dozen of the seed pods were escorted out of the tire with a little green bubble, but it never went flat. The back tube survived too, but later met its demise on the bottom mile of Downieville downhill. No slime was going to fix that gash.

Two recent episodes bear noting, and were frankly the impetus for this post.

First:
I was to meet the guys for our monthly ride to the men's prayer breakfast (February), but was redirected halfway to the rendezvous by a phone call from Dave with a flat tire. He was calling off, but I convinced him to let me come and replace his tube with the spare I was carrying. That done, we altered our route, and headed for breakfast. Within 3 miles of the destination and already running late, I flatted the Downieville tire again. "No way." I had given my spare to Dave. There we sat, wishing I had remembered to put my patch kit in the Camel Back pack also. A kind group of cyclists riding by bailed us out, after rifling 3 of thier saddle bags for a patch kit without dried glue. We snuck into the meeting approx. 1 hour late, ate cold eggs and sausage, and listened as we were lifted up in prayer for a safe arrival. God answered their prayers before they asked, and provided enough hot coffee to meet my deepest current need. I bummed a ride to Performance Bicycle in Walnut Creek, bought 2 new Slime tubes, installed one, and headed off to meet the group for the balance of the ride.

Double Flat

Second:
Vince and I opted for a quick "Crocket Loop" ride before dark last Thursday in leu of a run. Riding to meet him, I had one of those thoughts. You know - those thoughts which you know you shouldn't think, but allow to breach consciousness anyway. I actually gave thought to the fact that I hadn't had a flat on the road bike in some time. Within 20 minutes I was sporting a chainring tattoo on my calf, grease on all ten fingers, and was squatting beside Cummings Skyway removing a 700x 23 from an aluminum rim. All went reasonably well, with the help of Vince's frame pump, but I hadn't seated the tire well, and was off again within 100 feet disassembling. On again, and off again. Still didn't get it seated right. We now opted out of finishing the loop, and returned on the same route in the approaching twilight. Halfway back I deflated the spare on a lonely stretch of Franklin Canyon Rd. "No way." Ironically Bec called as we were commiserating and pondering our options. Vince was cool, and stayed around for a while, but as darkness settled in, took my blinking tail light and headed for home. I was soon rescued from whatever it was that kept rustling the leaves behind me.

I've patched that tube, and will be procuring another prior to my next ride, because it will happen again.

Valentines Day - Tour of California Time Trial

Valentine's Day 2009.
Up at 6:30.
Run 5 miles on the canal trails over to church.
Meet my girls and Dale to clean the building for Sunday service.
Drive home.
Drive to Sacramento to watch the Tour of California Prologue - Time Trials.
Begin hunting for restrooms.

"Would you hurry up and take the picture, please!?"

Pre-race warm up on the course.

We spent an amazing amount of time looking for and standing in line for restrooms. I have no idea how many people were out there, but whoever was in charge of calculating and supplying the facilities must have used the formula for hibernating bears, rather than chilly, mocha sipping, athletic types accustomed to frequent hydration.

The little blue houses...

...With great big lines.













We were unfortunately, well hydrated and caffeinated.

Who needs Carbon Fiber or Dura Ace?






























Fabian Cancellara - Winner of the Day.

4min 32sec

2.41 miles

Is that a 32 mph average? - WOW!











Coming out of 2nd corner - unidentified rider. The first hundred or so riders no one knows - the best are saved for last.




Carlos Sastre: Winner of 2008 Tour de France

Didn't do so hot today - 114 out of 136.

George Hincapie of Team Columbia... From my own home town:

The City of Greenville has dedicated a newly completed section of the Swamp Rabbit Trail to George Hincapie in recognition of the contributions that George and Hincapie Sportswear have made to the cycling and business communities in South Carolina. The "Hincapie Path" is now open and being used by cyclists and pedestrians for recreation and commuting in George's hometown of Greenville, SC (Taken from his personal Website)

Actually she was a fan of whoever happened to be riding by at the time. Nevertheless she did scream a little louder when the crowd went wild at his finish.

Armstrong's Countdown

Lance Armstrong's finish - As we got to see it.

My Valentines and I with 2nd row seats for the first part of the race.

We finally found the starting area, but also found the roadside to be lined with spectators. About a quarter mile into the ride and at the second hard turn the riders were forced to slow and navigate 2 quick corners. Here we found a patch of sunlight on the capitol lawn - which sat about 2’ higher than the roadway - and set up camp. If I stood on one of the folding camp chairs that we had brought, I had a great view of the riders from about 20’ back, and could get a pretty clear shot – except when everyone else threw their cameras into the air for the same picture.

No matter, it was just being there, watching Ella get excited as first one motorcycle, then a blur of color, and then a second motorcycle beset with driver and videographer flew by.

As a side note, the guys with the video cameras were standing on the back of the motorcycle – holding a rigid post in one hand and the video camera in the other, taking the same corners as the cyclists at the same speeds.

Another nameless rider who had better not slow down or fall down.

The route circumnavigated the state capitol, and the Governor himself met the winners at the end of the race. As for us, we didn't get to see anyone important or famous, other than those that were sailing by. We did have a blast though.



On the way home we stopped at Sweet Tomatoes and used up the balance of my birthday gift card, topping off a Red Letter Day. And, if you are wondering - yes, Bec claims to have had a good day too. But I know that this was really my Valentines Day present from my Girls.

Poison Oak

Ugh. If you have ever had Poison Oak, Ivy, or Sumac then you know what I mean by "ugh". I got it again.

We were returning from one of our after dark runs, where we use lights to give the illusion of safety while careening along fire roads in muddy tennis shoes. The run was done and we were driving out of the park, when we came around a corner and saw a brush fire only minutes old. Vince and Rachel stopped, and immediately called 911. I pulled up, and lacking a fire extinguisher, grabbed an old blanket from the back of the Pilot and began to smother the fire. I quickly realized that in order to do any good, I would have to get above the fire, as it was climbing a rather abrupt slope. After a difficult scramble up through the brush to the right of the fire it became evident that the flames were going to be too much for me and my blanket. We all retreated to wait and watch the fire department douse the result of a careless smoker’s indiscretion. I now loath that careless person.

A passing comment from my wife made my blood run cold. “I hope there was no Poison Oak in that brush.” I set a new land speed record getting from our car into the shower. Too late.

It has now been nearly 3 weeks since that fateful night. I reach down and scratch between nearly every paragraph. Most reports claimed that the rash should be gone in 2 weeks. Not for me.

I’m on my second round of prescription steroids. I have experimented with every topical analgesic, antihistamine, antipruritic, and exfoliant. I’ve used 2 kinds of pink, 2 kinds of white, clear, another cream that had a fine grit that felt like heaven to rub in, a Filipino coconut oil home remedy, and a homeopathic boiled leaf tea that smells like dog pee. I’ve slept on the couch more nights in the last 3 weeks than in the other 8 years of marriage combined. (Especially when I smelled like dog bedding) I’ve seen every two hours come and go on the hour for more nights than I care to remember. Recently a good night sleep is one where I’ve had consecutive 3 hour sleeps separated by only one reapplication of one of the various colors. On average I’ve been getting 4-5 hours per night with restless catnaps wherever I can fit them in during the day - preferably with my pickup truck in park.

Poison Oak is a curse. It covered my legs from my ankles up to my shorts line, with a few branches obviously sneaking up a lot higher. Both arms suffered damage, up to my biceps, but the right one took the brunt. My stomach must have also been scratched by a variant vine, and a sore about the size of half my palm developed to the right of my naval. All of the noted areas developed wonderful little blisters that weeped unabashed. For 2 solid weeks I looked and felt like death itself and often caught myself impersonating a chimpanzee with scabies. Children cried out and women wept in my presence. We were going to take pictures, but couldn’t bring ourselves to do it.

Then something wonderful happened. The sores began to show a valiant attempt at healing, just as I came off the first round of steroids. For about a day I noticed significant relief. All of the aforementioned areas morphed from brilliantly grotesque sores and scrapes to something similar to an alligator, and then further to what now looks like random scars. But then the flowers blossomed. The scars seemed to spawn a rosy thin rash tripling the coverage area. I despaired. Back to the dermatologist. More little white pills taken with food. I renewed the application of the foul stench, attempting to hide it with Mary Kay cologne. I can only hope the cover up worked. No one would likely tell me if it didn't.

I urge you to peruse the website of a co-sufferer - http://knoledge.org/oak/. Especially his section on etiquette. Just knowing that others have survived, has given me reason to hope. Though as I sit here I cannot recall life before the itch, and am beginning to suspect that indeed it may not have existed.


What I have learned...

Look before you leap. If it is too dark to see - don't leap.

DON'T BURN POISON OAK.

Let the East Bay Regional Park Service and the Contra Costa County Fire Dept. deal with brush fires.

Go to the dermatologist first. The general practitioners don't have a clue, and have been too busy in school to embark on adventures that include Poison Oak interactions.

Believe everything you read on the internet - it IS that bad.

Boiled Yerba Santa leaves help considerably.

Boiled Yerba Santa leaves smell like dog pee.

Snuggling with the wife ceases when you get Poison Oak. Neither of you are especially interested in it. Particularly when one of you smells like a kennel.

Hot showers become torture chambers. Cold showers don't itch, but are, well, cold showers.

With Poison Oak on 3/4 of your legs, those nylon warm up pants that are so perfectly convenient and comfortable, become acutely insufferable the moment you step out of the car in a public place. The same also applies to any article of clothing that happens to terminate on, or immediately adjacent to a rash. (When covered nearly head to toe, this makes clothing seem so overrated.)


The things taken for granted on a daily basis, including the most minute matters, become so intensely obvious, when you have danced with the pruritic vine.